Mass Effect: Discovery
by Abyssal Ferret
Summary: Shepard's life has taken a heavy toll on her. Barely after the dust has settled from the defeat of the Reapers and she has settled down into her new life, she is called out of her retirement to face a new threat. Will she find her way again? Post ME3.
1. Chapter 1

The news vids flickered through the darkened lounge room, the only source of light in the small apartment. They showed shots of the fleet's attack on the reapers. Alliance, Cerberus, Turian Military, Krogan vessels, and even the ships more suitable for warfare belonging to the Quarians were shown. Even the mysterious forms of the Rachni and Geth ships could be seen among the gigantic fleet. The media explained it as _an accomplishment for all races of the galaxy, a conglomeration fighting for the survival of all species, _and, the media spin on it, _the dawn of a new era of conciliation between all races. _The vids showed the massive and bizarre forms of the Reapers, and the massive fleet as they fought against them. They showed images of Shepard, of the Normandy SR2, and of the celebrations which each species had thrown on their home planets after the galactic battle was won.

Shepard chuckled to herself and grabbed for the small bottle of Hallex which sat on her coffee table alongside the potent bottles of alcohol, some opened, some unopened, and many, many more empty and strewn haphazardly about the table and beyond. She upended a pill onto her palm, popped it, and consumed its red contents before replacing the bottle into any free space on the table and slumping back again into her comfy spot.

_They're not covering this one up. I suppose they are all too happy to be playing with __events involving surviving from certain doom. It's a sure-fired media field-day._

The next news vid showed Thomas Kent, a negotiator on the Citadel for the human race. He was announcing to a reporter the 'historically significant' pacts that had been formed between the salarian and human races as a result of the cooperation shown between the two species during the Reaper War. Dull retorts of recognition ran through Shepard's inebriated mind as she saw his face. She had convinced Elias Keeler, back then Kent's boss, to seek treatment for his drug addiction.

_How ironic. _She thought._ I'm one to talk, now._

She shrugged in indifference, and then, after an extended spell of wooziness, she smirked to herself.

_If someone like I was back then came up to me now and tried that reasoning with me… I'd… I'd slap them and tell them to bugger off and mind their own business._

There was a knock on the door. Shepard, in an instinctive moment of panicked action which formed itself in her brain as throbbing cotton balls, clumsily swept the pills off the table, tucking them under the lounge. She grumbled to herself, staggering to her feet and supporting herself against the side of the arm of the chair as she attempted to regain some composure.

_Who the fuck?_

The sudden movement caused Shepard's dull mind to reel through several states, some of throbbing pain, some of altered levels of consciousness, as she lopsidedly staggered to the door. By the time she stood in front of it, she was in an irritably groggy state. She finally managed to press the security code into the door with clumsy figures, standing there when it opened in pulsing anger.

"What?" She blurted out to the man standing in Alliance Standard Issue out in the hallway before she could even level her eyes to look at him. When she did, she saw he clutched his cap in his hands, a sign of respect. He was Caucasian, his hair was trimmed to a short black length, and his eyes were a deep brown in color. He seemed to dance around her vision like a fish swimming through water, which she severely wished would stand still. All his erratic movements were giving her a headache.

The man, strong built like any you would find in the Alliance Military, stood there and said nothing. For several moments he just stared at the poor-form of a woman who had greeted him. The once noble, heroic figure who was often portrayed in images as being a straight backed, well kept, hard faced, composed figure stood there in front of him, vein filled reddened eyes glaring at him unsteadily as though she were in danger of passing out at any moment. He had to crinkle his nose at the smell of intoxication that assaulted him as soon as the door had opened.

"What do you want?" She barked again, her voice slightly slurring. Hallex and copious amounts of alcohol were not a good combination.

"Second Lieutenant Rory Jones, M'am. I come on the authority of the Alliance." He told her. "They want to see you."

"Why didn't they just send me an extranet message or something?" She asked, leaning against the door frame for support and trying to focus her vision by staring at his face in her best efforts.

"They thought it'd be more appropriate to send a messenger in person." He replied calmly. "Look, are you alright? You seem like you need to sit down."

"I'll be fine." Shepard replied, her tone still bordering angry. "Once you leave me alone. What exactly do they want to see me about?"

"I'm forbidden to tell the exact nature, M'am. I can only tell you it is an issue of great importance they need your skill for."

"But I'm retired! Tell them to get… to get someone else!" she said, her voice sounding a mixture of pleading and anger. She pushed her dilapidated weight against the wall near the door control panel, attempting to support herself enough to be able to type in the code and close it then and there. She was getting worse… she desperately needed to sit down.

Rory wedged himself in the gap before it closed, causing the door to slide open again from the obstruction. He reached out his hand to stop it from closing again and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm afraid they can't do that. You're the only person with the skill –and the expertise- needed to get the job done. If you don't report, then there's no knowing what could happen."

"I know what would happen." Shepard hiccupped. "I'd be happy and in peace."

Rory stood there passively, keeping the door from closing by his obstructing it.

"At any rate, if you change your mind, Councillor Anderson would like to see you in the Human Embassy tomorrow at 1400 hours. I'll say too, it was your former teammate Garrus Vakarian who brought this to the Embassy's attention."

Shepard paused, becoming visibly more stable and awake. "Garrus? Why would he report anything to the Human Embassy?" She asked, for once sincere interest becoming apparent in her tone.

"He thought it was a matter only humans could deal with." Rory answered, his own tone becoming even more sincere. "He specifically asked for you. And while you're at it, I think you should see another kind of Councillor." He snuck in; the comment apparently bypassed Shepard's limited reasoning ability completely. "Good evening, Shepard."

He stepped out of the doorway, which, sensing the obstruction gone, closed almost immediately. Shepard still leant against the wall. She was still stunned by the news about Garrus. What could it be which had made him ask specifically for her, and why had he gotten the Embassy involved? Should she… should she dare to face the world again?


	2. Chapter 2

Every eye seemed to be turned toward her as she pushed her way through the crowd of gathered people up on the Presidium. From the periphery of her hearing, she could hear people murmuring, although they spoke so quietly she couldn't make out the words they were saying. She could guess, though. She knew they were talking about her, how she'd changed, how the paragon of morality had fallen. No-one was smiling at her. They were polite, sure, standing aside to let her through, offering her praise whenever her eyes happened to meet with theirs, but she knew they turned away in disgust as soon as she was beyond them.

Some part of her was aching, ashamed to bear those glances.

She made her way toward the Embassies, the place of her meeting with Anderson. This was the first time she'd been out of her apartment in months, since the Normandy had been temporarily grounded while the crew celebrated and rested following their victory against the reapers. Today she had made an effort to shape up, to appear presentable to people, try to uphold their ideal of her. Although her hair was washed and her perfume was sweet, the telltale signs of what she had been doing in those weeks were still painfully apparent. There was no hiding from her problems.

She pushed her way finally into the building which housed the Embassy, to the secretary bench. The asari working at the desk looked up and instantly recognised her, offering her a warm smile.

"Anderson is waiting for you in his office, m'am," she said politely.

Shepard nodded.

"Thank you," she offered the asari before she turned to head up the staircase to Anderson's office.

In the hallway there were a volus and an elcor which had stopped midway down the hall to their office. They were bickering between each other, the elcor occasionally offering his side of events in his deep tones and the volus in his condescending one. Both stopped and looked up as Shepard approached, and she too was forced to stop in the hallway.

"Ah," the volus rasped. "Shepard. Saviour of the universe, is it? Think to set an example for the little ones, then go betray them… like this?"

"Reprimanding: Don't be so condescending, Din. You don't know what she's been through. It is not your place to decide how she should feel."

Although she knew the elcor to be sticking up for her, she couldn't help but get the feeling there was also a hint of dispossession in his tone.

"All I'm saying is that she should make the effort to be a better role model. So many people rely on her to be upstanding, and now look at her," he gasped. "Barely above the worst of the scum in the Wards." He gasped again. "She's letting everyone down. And in these hard times, it's more important than ever to give people hope."

There was a pause, wherein both the elcor and the volus were studying her. Again, she felt the aching in her gut. She wanted to be what everyone expected of her, to not let them down. But she wasn't sure she could.

"Excuse me. I have to go," Shepard spoke, moving to push past them through the hallway.

Through the rest of the short distance to Anderson's office Shepard thought about what the volus had said. Every society in the entire universe had elected her as their champion, the ultimate example to live up to. She had failed them because she could not uphold their expectations. Everything she had seen, everything she had experienced up until the fall of the reapers had gradually chipped away at her resolve, and she had finally fallen apart. She had lost the desire to work in the military. She had lost her desire to protect. She had lost her ability to be strong, and to uphold the expectations placed around her.

In her mind the volus was right. She had failed them all, and no longer had the willpower to change it.

Finally she reached the doorway to Anderson's office. She flashed her clearance, the door opening to reveal an office with a desk piled high with paperwork. Behind it, looking up as she entered, was a flustered and tired looking Anderson. She tried to read his face as soon as he looked up and recognised her, but his reaction was indiscernible.

He stood up as she approached, extending a hand to her. She took it and shook his strong grip.

"Shepard. I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure you'd be willing to do another task for the Alliance."

"Let's just say you caught me in a good mood," Shepard replied.

Anderson nodded, motioning for her to take a seat, which she did so.

"Garrus came by a few days ago, approaching me with a proposal," Anderson started.

"How is he?" Shepard asked. As with yesterday, the mere mention of her former companion bought back some measure of her former composure.

"He's doing well. As you've undoubtedly already heard he's finally gotten a position among the Spectres."

Shepard shook her head, smiling at the thought of Garrus pinning down the ringleader of some criminal organisation somewhere, doing what he did best. "Good for him," she replied.

"He said he wanted to take on where you left off, and make sure the universe still had someone keeping them from harm," Anderson nodded. "So far his fame as your companion has helped him immeasurably," Anderson smiled and shook his head. "No-one wants to anger the people who have the power to take out the reapers."

Shepard grinned again and nodded. "So what does he want from me?"

"He'd heard about your… remission from service and didn't seem pleased. He said he wanted your help with a mission he was on."

"What kind of mission?"

"Apparently he's tracked down a rogue division which spit off and became their own organisation after you took down Cerberus. He claimed they had stolen some of the Illusive Man's technology, planning to use it to their own ends and eventually revive Cerberus."

"Why would Garrus care about a rogue human splinter group?" Shepard asked.

"The technology they're fabled to have gotten their hands on is apparently quite dangerous. Garrus has heard it could potentially cause a lot of havoc, if what he's heard proves to be true. A kind of Post-Reaper aftershock. Shepard," Anderson suddenly became more serious. "This galaxy isn't prepared for another disaster."

Shepard's gaze fixed onto Anderson's. She realised she had gotten this far only out of her interest to hear of Garrus. She then realised she wasn't ready for, doubted she would ever be ready for, another adventure. With or without her old teammate.

She slouched backward into her seat and closed her eyes, attempting to piece together some kind of plan. Her mind urged her to extract herself from this situation, to retire back to her dark apartment and her alcohol, the tolerable din she had created for herself. The small part of her which had been causing her irritation throughout this entire endeavour, however, made her realise that she should go. That if she didn't, she likely would never leave her house again. The feeling nagged at her. She couldn't bring herself to summon the energy to save the universe all over again, but if this splinter organisation was nearly as dangerous as Garrus apparently feared it to be, enough to call Shepard out of retirement, then surely it was serious. Such powerful technology would surely be protected by more than a shoddily put together battery of extremists. Garrus would be in great danger if he went to investigate it alone. For all his qualities, estimating the power of the enemy was not one of them. She realised then just why Garrus had called on her.

That motivation, if there was no other, would be enough for Shepard to pull on her old N7 armour one more time.


End file.
